Last Words
by madame.alexandra
Summary: The last conversation Leia had with her mother.


_a/n: since Threepio and Artoo were on Yavin in Rogue One, I'm assuming Leia set out from there, too. assume it for this piece's sake._

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 _ **Last Words**_

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The flurry of commotion on Yavin IV was relentless – exhilarating, stimulating, _breathtaking_. To be a silent, covert contact for the Rebellion was one thing – to be immersed in the midst of it, in the chaos and excited fear of secrecy and desperation – was a whole different feeling altogether. Sequestered away in a communications alcove buried under the old Massassi Temple, Princess Leia's whole being – mind, body, and soul – veritably hummed with an electric feeling that seemed to be comprised of terror, excitement, and cool composure.

Cool composure – serenity – was the best front to present to her mother, as she spoke to Queen Breha via one of the more private consoles in the hidden room – though the Queen of Alderaan was no simpleton, hardly oblivious to the clandestine involvements of her husband and daughter – the two of them did so try to keep her blissfully unaware of their doings, for the sake of her safety from Imperial inquiry, and for her peace of mind.

Ignorance was bliss, and Leia's conversation with her mother in this moment – despite how energized and trembling she was underneath the surface – was easygoing and unassuming, gentle, and – normal.

Queen Breha gracefully ignored the rabid activity that swirled around behind Leia in her personal comm alcove, and Leia listened with intelligent, but slightly bored, interest to her mother's rundown of the domestic state of Alderaan –

"Your absence on Coruscant is a little more obvious, of late," Breha said mildly. "I've had half a mind to send Winter in your place, though it might confirm a whole host of rumors, if I were to imply you will be out for an extended period."

Her kind, dark eyes sparkled with amusement, and Leia leaned on her hand, chin in her palm, arching a brow.

"Rumors? And what are those?"

"That you've met an older man on Coruscant – that you've been taken in, a young, tender senator such as yourself – and gotten yourself into a bit of – _trouble_ – and we've had to bring you home for a bit."

She emphasized _trouble_ , and Leia laughed loudly.

"Ah, really?" she asked lightly. "And whose baby am I having, according to these rumors?"

"That would depend on who you ask," Breha replied mildly.

"I suppose Winter thinks it is hilarious," Leia sighed.

"Naturally," Breha agreed.

"Well, don't send her to Coruscant; she hates it," Leia said. "My office still maintains I'm handling diplomatic outreach for Alderaan," she added. "Rumors will fly no matter what."

Breha sighed.

"And what _are_ you doing out there in the far reaches of space, darling?" she asked sagely.

"What I was elected to do," Leia answered, swift and vague.

Her mother arched a brow at her, bit her lip, and shook her head with a fond smile – and Leia imagined her olive skin flushing a little red as she worried over Leia, and worried over Bail.

"May I ask where you are?" Breha inquired.

"Safe," Leia answered simply.

Breha sighed; she flicked her eyes up, fond, but exasperated –

"Might you make a visit home soon?" she continued. "I imagined I'd miss you when you moved off to Coruscant, but never thought it would be quite this much."

Leia tilted her head, and smiled softly, tucking her shoulders in – she thought about it, and glanced over her shoulder, watching a few orange-suited pilots run past her. She turned back to her mother –

"Shortly," she agreed. "I have an assignment to handle, at the moment," she said vaguely.

"Your father is coming home," Breha noted.

Leia nodded.

"Yes, I saw him off an hour or so ago," Leia confided. "Did he speak with you…?"

Her mother nodded, a sad look creasing her face – even in the blue holographic pixels, Leia could read the tired, disheartened lines around Breha's eyes, the cracks in a strong façade, identifying a woman who had tried, and failed, to maintain peace.

"War," Breha murmured dejectedly. "And Alderaan, without arms."

Leia sighed, closing her eyes for a moment – everything was about to explode; covert operations would soon be _blatant,_ if the Rebellion was successful, and that would mean – in the coming days, months, and years – planet after planet, culture after culture, would be forced to take a stand, on one side or the other.

"We'll be okay, Mama," she said, opening her eyes.

Breha said nothing. She tilted her head, and after a moment, smiled widely at her daughter, looking her over thoughtfully – and under her gaze, Leia sat up straight, and touched her fingers to the side of her head, checking to make sure her hair was still tucked up neatly –

"Oh, no, Lelila, you look fine," Breha soothed, noticing the movement. "I was only admiring the woman you've become."

Leia blushed, leaning back down - closer to the shimmering image, almost as if she could see her mother in vivid colour, a living figure instead of this projection – she did miss her, and when this battle was over, she resolved she would go home, and sit by a fire in the palace of Antibes, sharing stories with her mother.

An alarm went off, there was a flurry of commotion behind Leia, and she turned, her attention drawn – distracted.

"I only have a minute or two more," Leia said, glancing from the comm unit, back around behind her –

" _Scarif, move, move, move!"_ – someone yelled – and Leia felt a rush of anticipation – and when they succeeded at Scarif, she'd carry the data to Tatooine, to this strange old friend of her father's –

Leia cocked her head, turning back to her mother quizzically.

"Mama," she began. "Have you ever met a man called Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

Breha looked taken aback for a moment. She stared at Leia, and Leia sensed she had said something that significantly _jarred_ her mother, and she pursed her lips, waiting eagerly – her father hadn't told her much, only that she had to trust him, that they were on the brink –

"Yes," Breha said quietly. "He was a Jedi, a very skilled general, during the Clone Wars," she related. "I believed him to be dead."

Leia hesitated, and then leaned forward, opening her mouth – behind her, an Ensign stopped by bending forward at the waist as he silently interrupted, and Leia turned, sitting up straight and bidding him to speak –

"Your Highness – _Tantive IV_ is primed for takeoff."

Leia nodded, and set him off with a graceful flick of her hand. She turned back to the console, her heart pounding – and then she was distracted again, thinking of subterfuge and tradecraft, of the triumph that was awaiting the Rebellion, the savage victory they were about to win for democracy –

And Breha noticed the sudden glint in her daughter's eye, and knew that for the time being, she had lost her attention, and she smiled kindly, and sat forward, studying her as intently as she could through the blue shimmers – miles away, but connected still, in her own way.

"Leia, take care of yourself," she advised softly. "I know how brave you are. I know how much this fight means to you – but do take care," she requested. "You mean so much to me."

Leia nodded, a breezy smile touching her lips.

"I will, Mama," she placated. She smiled wryly. "You needn't worry. I'm merely on a diplomatic mission."

Breha smiled knowingly, and Leia leaned forward. She placed her hand over the button to end the call – clicking it almost too quickly. She blinked, and then winced – she shouldn't have ended so abruptly, but her nerves were on fire, she could suddenly only think about the mission at hand –

She got up, and as she took a step to leave the alcove, she was struck with the sudden feeling that she had – she _had_ hung up too quickly; this was battle, not political subterfuge – and she ought to have told her mother she loved her – she was, in fact, suddenly overwhelmed with a wrenching, pulsing feeling that she _should_ have told her mother a thousand small things – _thank you, I love you, you're important to me –_

Leia felt cold, and struggled with the feeling for a moment – it was absurd, wasn't it – she – her heart beat for a moment in a frantic rhythm, suddenly scared she'd never seen Breha again – and Leia turned, swallowing hard, and reached out to pull the call back online to comfort herself – _you're being silly, Princess, cut it out with the doom and gloom –_

Her finger was on the call button, and yet she was drawn away by the sound of a clearing throat, and a uniform in the alcove doorway –

"Your Highness, we're about to be cleared for takeoff."

Leia drew her gaze away from the console, and met his eyes –

"Thank you, Captain Antilles," she said, serene, and composed.

She stood, and he stepped aside, inclining his head to let her lead the way to her ship – _Tantive IV_ , somewhere around the corner of all these excavated hidden halls, waiting for her, engines humming in anticipation –

"We've set a course for Scarif, the edge of the atmosphere," Captain Antilles was explaining gruffly – "from there, hyperspace coordinates to Tatooine – "

Head held high, Leia listened, and the flurry of commotion around her was still relentless, and that paralyzing, doomed feeling evaporated, for the time being, and she didn't think of it again until –

* * *

 _yes, it's supposed to end like that :(_

 _-alexandra_  
 _story #347_


End file.
